UC-NRLF 


PARKER 


CDaru  J.  £.  CDcDonald 


EN 


Mary  J.L,  McDonald 


PIGS  IS  PIGS 


"Pets  Mm  animals  may  be,  an* -domestic  they  be, 
but  pigs,  Fm  blame  sure  they  do  be  " 


PIGS  IS  PIGS 


By  ELLIS  PARKER  BUTLER 


Author  of  "That  Pup,*'  "Mike  Flannery,"  "The 
Thin  Santt  Claus,"  "The  Water  Goats,"  Etc. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS 
BY  WILL  CRAWFORD 


A.  L.  BURT  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS.  NEW  YORK 


Copyright,  1906,  by  McClure,  Phillips  &  Co. 
Published  April,  1906 


J         i: DONALD 


Copyright,  1905,  by  Colver  Publishing  House 
(American  Magazine) 


LIST   OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Pets  thim  animals  may  be,  but  pig's, 
I'm  blame  sure  they  do  be  . 


Facing 
page 

Flannery  is  right,  pigs  is  pigs    .          10 
Proceed  to  collect  .     .     .     .   .  .     .     .     18 

Mr.  Morehouse  had  moved!    ...     26 

He  was  winding  up  the  guinea-pig 

episode    .....     ....     34 


980924 


PIGS  IS  PIGS 


Mike  Flannery,  the  '  Westeojte;,  ; ,  ,, 
agent  of  the  Interurbail  Express 
Company,  leaned  over  the  counter 
of  the  express  office  and  shook  his 
fist.  Mr.  Morehouse,  angry  and 
red,  stood  on  the  other  side  of  the 
counter,  trembling  with  rage.  The 
argument  had  been  long  and  heated, 
and  at  last  Mr.  Morehouse  had 
talked  himself  speechless.  The 
cause  of  the  trouble  stood  on  the 
counter  between  the  two  men.  It 
was  a  soap  box  across  the  top  of 
which  were  nailed  a  number  of 
strips,  forming  a  rough  but  service- 

[3] 


PIGS   IS  PIGS 

able    cage.      In    it    two    spotted 
guinea-pigs  were   greedily   eating 
lettuce  leaves. 
,  "Doasyouloike,  then!"  shouted 

Flannery,  "  pay  for  thim  an'  take 
thim,  or  don't  pay  for  thim  and 
leave  thim  be.  Rules  is  rules, 
Misther  Morehouse,  an'  Mike  Flan- 
nery's  not  goin'  to  be  called  down 
fer  breakin'  of  thim." 

'But,  you  everlastingly  stupid 
idiot!"  shouted  Mr.  Morehouse, 
madly  shaking  a  flimsy  printed 
book  beneath  the  agent's  nose, 
"  can't  you  read  it  here — in  your 
own  plain  printed  rates?  'Pets, 
domestic,  Franklin  to  Westcote,  if 
properly  boxed,  twenty-five  cents 

[4] 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

each. '  He  threw  the  book  on  the 
counter  in  disgust.  "What  more 
do  you  want  ?  Aren't  they  pets  ? 
Aren't  they  domestic?  Aren't 
they  properly  boxed  ?  What  ? ' ' 

He  turned  and  walked  back  and 
forth  rapidly;  frowning  ferociously. 

Suddenly  he  turned  to  Flannery, 
and  forcing  his  voice  to  an  artificial 
calmness  spoke  slowly  but  with  in 
tense  sarcasm. 

"Pets/'hesaid'T-e-t-s!  Twenty- 
five  cents  each.  There  are  two  of 
them.  One!  Two!  Two  times 
twenty-five  are  fifty!  Can  you 
understand  that?  I  offer  you  fifty 
cents." 

Flannery  reached  for  the  book. 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

He  ran  his  hand  through  the  pages 
and  stopped  at  page  sixty  four. 

6  'An  1  don't  take  fifty  cints, ' '  he 
whispered  in  mockery.  "Here's 
the  rule  for  ut.  *  Whin  the  agint  be 
in  anny  doubt  regardin'  which  of 
two  rates  applies  to  a  shipment,  he 
shall  charge  the  larger.  The  con- 
sign-ey  may  file  a  claim  for  the 
overcharge. '  In  this  case,  Misther 
Morehouse,  I  be  in  doubt.  Pets 
thim  animals  may  be,  an'  domestic 
they  be,  but  pigs  I'm  blame  sure 
they  do  be,  an'  me  rules  says  plain 
as  the  nose  on  yer  face,  'Pigs 
Franklin  to  Westcote,  thirty  cints 
each.'  An'  Mister  Morehouse,  by 
me  arithmetical  knowledge  two 
[6] 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

times  thurty  comes  to  sixty  cmts. ' ! 

Mr.  Morehouse  shook  his  head 
savagely.  '  Nonsense ! "  he  shout 
ed,  "  confounded  nonsense,  I  tell 
you!  Why,  you  poor  ignorant 
foreigner,  that  rule  means  common 
pigs,  domestic  pigs,  not  guinea- 
pigs!" 

Flannery  was  stubborn. 

1 '  Pigs  is  pigs, ' '  he  declared  firmly. 
"  Guinea-pigs,  or  dago  pigs  or  Irish 
pigs  is  all  the  same  to  the  Interur- 
ban  Express  Company  an'  to  Mike 
Flannery.  Th'  nationality  of  the 
pig  creates  no  differentiality  in  the 
rate,  Misther  Morehouse!  'T would 
be  the  same  was  they  Dutch  pigs 
or  Rooshun  pigs.  Mike  Flannery," 
[7] 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

he  added,  "is  here  to  tind  to  the 
expriss  business  and  not  to  hould 
conversation  wid  dago  pigs  in  sivin- 
teen  languages  fer  to  discover  be 
they  Chinese  or  Tipperary  by  birth 
an'  nativity." 

Mr.  Morehouse  hesitated.  He 
bit  his  lip  and  then  flung  out  his 
arms  wildly. 

"Very  well!"  he  shouted,  "you 
shall  hear  of  this!  Your  president 
shall  hear  of  this!  It  is  an  outrage! 
I  have  offered  you  fifty  cents.  You 
refuse  it!  Keep  the  pigs  until  you 
are  ready  to  take  the  fifty  cents,  but, 
by  George,  sir,  if  one  hair  of  those 
pigs'  heads  is  harmed  I  will  have 
the  law  on  you!" 

[8] 


PIGS   IS  PIGS 

He  turned  and .  stalked  out, 
slamming  the  door.  Flannery 
carefully  lifted  the  soap  box  from 
the  counter  and  placedit  in  a  corner. 
He  was  not  worried.  He  felt  the 
peace  that  comes  to  a  faithful  ser 
vant  who  has  done  his  duty  and 
done  it  well. 

Mr.  Morehouse  went  home  rag 
ing.  His  boy,  who  had  been  await 
ing  the  guinea-pigs,  knew  better 
than  to  ask  him  for  them.  He  was 
a  normal  boy  and  therefore  always 
had  a  guilty  conscience  when  his 
father  was  angry.  So  the  boy  slip 
ped  quietly  around  the  house. 
There  is  nothing  so  soothing  to 
a  guilty  conscience  as  to  be 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

out  of  the   path  of  the  avenger. 

Mr.  Morehouse  stormed  into  the 
house.  "Where's  the  ink?"  he 
shouted  at  his  wife  as  soon  as  his 
foot  was  across  the  doorsill. 

Mrs.  Morehouse  jumped,  guiltily. 
She  never  used  ink.  She  had 
not  seen  the  ink,  nor  moved  the 
ink,  nor  thought  of  the  ink,  hut 
her  husband's  tone  convicted  her 
of  the  guilt  of  having  borne  and 
reared  a  boy,  and  she  knew  that 
whenever  her  husband  wanted  any 
thing  in  a  loud  voice  the  boy  had 
been  at  it. 

' ' I'll  find  Sammy/'  she  said 
meekly. 

When  the  ink  was  found  Mr. 

[10] 


'•* 

"  Flnwnery  is  right,  pigs  is  pigs 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

Morehouse  wrote  rapidly,  and  he 
read  the  completed  letter  and 
smiled  a  triumphant  smile. 

"That  will  settle  that  crazy  Irish 
man!"  he  exclaimed.  'When  they 
get  that  letter  he  will  hunt  an 
other  job,  all  right!" 

A  week  later  Mr.  Morehouse 
received  a  long  official  envelope  with 
the  card  of  the  Interurban  Express 
Company  in  the  upper  left  corner. 
He  tore  it  open  eagerly  and  drew 
out  a  sheet  of  paper.  At  the  top  it 
bore  the  number  A6754.  The  let 
ter  was  short.  '  'Subject — Rate  on 
guinea-pigs,"  it  said,  "Dr.  Sir — We 
are  in  receipt  of  your  letter  regard 
ing  rate  on  guinea-pigs  between 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

Franklin  and  Westcote,  addressed 
to  the  president  of  this  company. 
All  claims  for  overcharge  should  be 
addressed  to  the  Claims  Depart 
ment. 

Mr.  Morehouse  wrote  to  the 
Claims  Department.  He  wrote  six 
pages  of  choice  sarcasm,  vitupera 
tion  and  argument,  and  sent  them 
to  the  Claims  Department. 

A  few  weeks  later  he  received  a 
reply  from  the  Claims  Department. 
Attached  to  it  was  his  last  letter. 

'  Dr.  Sir, ' '  said  the  reply. 
"Your  letter  of  the  1 6th  inst,  ad 
dressed  to  this  Department,  subject 
rate  on  guinea-pigs  from  Franklin 
to  Westcote,  rec'd.  We  have 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

taken  up  the  matter  with  our  agent 
at  Westcote,  and  his  reply  is  at 
tached  herewith.  He  informs  us 
that  you  refused  to  receive  the 
consignment  or  to  pay  the  charges. 
You  have  therefore  no  claim 
against  this  company,  and  your  let 
ter  regarding  the  proper  rate  on  the 
consignment  should  be  addressed 
to  our  Tariff  Department. 

Mr.  Morehouse  wrote  to  the  Tar 
iff  Department.  He  stated  his 
case  clearly,  and  gave  his  argu 
ments  in  full,  quoting  a  page  or  two 
from  the  encyclopedia  to  prove 
that  guinea-pigs  were  not  common 
pigs. 

With  the  care  that  characterizes 

[13] 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

corporations  when  they  are  sys 
tematically  conducted,  Mr.  More- 
house's  letter  was  numbered, 
O.  K'd,  and  started  through  the  reg 
ular  channels.  Duplicate  copies  of 
the  bill  of  lading,  manifest,  Flan- 
nery's  receipt  for  the  package  and 
several  other  pertinent  papers  were 
pinned  to  the  letter,  and  they  were 
passed  to  the  head  of  the  Tariff  De 
partment. 

The  head  of  the  Tariff  Depart 
ment  put  his  feet  on  his  desk  and 
yawned.  He  looked  through  the 
papers  carelessly. 

"Miss  Kane/'  he  said  to  his  ste 
nographer,  'take  this  letter. 
'Agent,  Westeote,  N.  J.  Please 

[14] 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

advise  why  consignment  referred 
to  in  attached  papers  was  refused 
domestic  pet  rates.  * 

Miss  Kane  made  a  series  of  curves 
and  angles  on  her  note  book  and 
waited  with  pencil  poised.  The 
head  of  the  department  looked  at 
the  papers  again. 

"Huh!  guinea-pigs!"  he  said 
' '  Probably  starved  to  death  by  this 
time!  Add  this  to  that  letter: 
'  Give  condition  of  consignment  at 
present. ' 

He  tossed  the  papers  on  to  the 
stenographer's  desk,  took  his  feet 
from  his  own  desk  and  went  out  to 
hinch. 

When  Mike  Flannery  received 

[15] 


PIGS   IS  PIGS 

the      letter      he      scratched     his 
head. 

"Give  prisint  condition,"  he  re 
peated  thoughtfully.  "Now  what 
do  thim  clerks  be  wantin'  to  know, 
I  wonder!  Trisint  condition, '  is  ut? 
Thim  pigs,  praise  St.  Patrick,  do  be 
in  good  health,  so  far  as  I  know, 
but  I  niver  was  no  veternairy  sur 
geon  to  dago  pigs.  Mebby  thim 
clerks  wants  me  to  call  in  the  pig 
docther  an'  have  their  pulses  took. 
Wan  thing  I  do  know,  how- 
iver,  which  is  they've  glorious 
appytites  for  pigs  of  their  soize. 
Ate?  They'd  ate  the  brass 
padlocks  off  of  a  barn  door! 
If  the  paddy  pig,  by  the  same 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

token,  ate  as  hearty  as  these 
dago  pigs  do,  there'd  be  a  famine 
in  Ireland." 

To  assure  himself  that  his  report 
would  be  up  to  date,  Flannery  went 
to  the  rear  of  the  office  and  looked 
into  the  cage.  The  pigs  had  been 
transferred  to  a  larger  box — a  dry 
goods  box. 

'Wan, —  two, —  t'ree, —  four, — 
foive, —  six, —  sivin, —  eight !' '  he 
counted.  "Sivin  spotted  an'  wan 
all  black.  All  well  an'  hearty  an' 
all  eatin'  loike  ragin'  hippypotty- 
musses."  He  went  back  to  his 
desk  and  wrote. 

"Mr.  Morgan,  Head  of  Tariff 
Department,"  he  wrote.       'Why 
[17] 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

% 

do  I  say  dago  pigs  is  pigs  because 
they  is  pigs  and  will  be  til  you  say 
they  ain't  which  is  what  the  rule 
book  says  stop  your  jollying  me 
you  know  it  as  well  as  I  do.  As 
to  health  they  are  all  well  and  hop 
ing  you  are  the  same.  P.S.  There 
are  eight  now  the  family  increased 
all  good  eaters.  P.S.  I  paid  out 
so  far  two  dollars  for  cabbage  which 
they  like  shall  I  put  in  bill  for 
same  what?" 

Morgan,  head  of  the  Tariff  De 
partment,  when  he  received  this 
letter,  laughed.  He  read  it  again 
and  became  serious. 

"By  George!"  he  said,  "Flan* 
nery  is  right,  'pigs  is  pigs/  I'll 

[18] 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

have  to  get  authority  on  this  thing. 
Meanwhile,  Miss  Kane,  take  this 
letter:  Agent,  Westcote,  N.  J. 
Regarding  shipment  guinea-pigs, 
File  No.  A6754.  Rule  83,  Gen 
eral  Instruction  to  Agents,  clearly 
states  that  agents  shall  collect  from 
consignee  all  costs  of  provender, 
etc.,  etc.,  required  for  live  stock 
while  in  transit  or  storage.  You 
will  proceed  to  collect  same  from 
consignee. 

Flannery  received  this  letter 
next  morning,  and  when  he  read  it 
he  grinned. 

"Proceed  to  collect,"  he  said 
softly.  5 '  How  thim  clerks  do  loike 
to  be  talkin' !  Me  proceed  to  col- 

[19] 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

lect  two  dollars  and  twinty-foive 
cints  off  Misther  Morehouse  !  I 
wonder  do  thim  clerks  know  Misther 
Morehouse?  F 11  git  it!  Oh,  yes! 
'Misther  Morehouse,  two  an'  a 
quarter,  plaze.'  'Cert'nly,  me  dear 
frind  Flannery.  Delighted!'  Not!" 

Flannery  drove  the  express  wag 
on  to  Mr.  Morehouse 's  door.  Mr. 
Morehouse  answered  the  bell. 

'  'Ah,  ha ! "  he  cried  as  soon  as  he 
saw  it  was  Flannery.  "So  you've 
come  to  your  senses  at  last,  have 
you  ?  I  thought  you  would !  Bring 
the  box  in." 

"I  hev  no  box,"  said  Flannery 
coldly.  "I  hev  a  bill  agin  Misther 
John  C.  Morehouse  for  two  dollars 

[20] 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

and  twinty-foive  cints  for  kebbages 
aten  by  his  dago  pigs.  Wud  you 
wish  to  pay  ut?" 

'  Tay —  Cabbages —  ! ' '  gasped 
Mr.  Morehouse.  "Do  you  mean 
to  say  that  two  little  guinea-pigs-' 

"Eight!"  said  Flannery.  "Papa 
an'  mamma  an'  the  six  childer. 
Eight!" 

For  answer  Mr.  Morehouse 
slammed  the  door  in  Flannery's 
face.  Flannery  looked  at  the  door 
reproachfully. 

"I  take  ut  the  con-sign-y  don't 
want  to  pay  for  thim  kebbages," 
he  said.  "If  I  know  signs  of 
refusal,  the  con-sign-y  refuses 
to  pay  for  wan  dang  kebbage 

[21] 


PIGS   IS  PIGS 

leaf  an'  be  hanged  to  me  1" 
Mr.  Morgan,  the  head  of  the 
Tariff  Department,  consulted  the 
president  of  the  Interurban  Express 
Company  regarding  guinea-pigs,  as 
to  whether  they  were  pigs  or  not 
pigs.  The  president  was  inclined 
to  treat  the  matter  lightly. 

'What  is  the  rate  on  pigs  and 
on  pets  ?  *    he  asked. 

"Pigs  thirty  cents,  pets  twenty- 
five,"  said  Morgan. 

*  Then  of  course  guinea-pigs  are 
pigs,"  said  the  president. 

' '  Yes, ' '  agreed  Morgan,  *  *  I  look 
at  it  that  way,  too.  A  thing  that 
can  come  under  two  rates  is  natur- 
ally  due  to  be  classed  as  the  higher, 

[22] 


PIGS   IS  PIGS 

But  are  guinea-pigs,  pigs?  Aren't 
they  rabbits  ? ' 

"Come  to  think  of  it,"  said  the 
president,  "I  believe  they  are  more 
like  rabbits.  Sort  of  half-way  sta 
tion  between  pig  and  rabbit  I  think 
the  question  is  this — are  guinea- 
pigs  of  the  domestic  pig  family  ?  I'D 
ask  Professor  Gordonu  He  is  au 
thority  on  such  things-  Leave  the 
papers  with  me. 

The  president  put  the  papers  on 
his  desk  and  wrote  a  letter  to  Pro 
fessor  Gordon.  Unfortunately  the 
Professor  was  in  South  America 
collecting-  zoological  specimens,  and 
the  letter  was  forwarded  to  him  by 
his  wife.  As  the  Professor  was  in 

[23] 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

the  highest  Andes,  where  no  white 
man  had  ever  penetrated,  the  letter 
was  many  months  in  reaching  him. 
The  president  forgot  the  guinea 
pigs,  Morgan  forgot  them,  Mr. 
Morehouse  forgot  them,  but  Flan- 
nery  did  not.  One-half  of  his  time 
he  gave  to  the  duties  of  his  agency; 
the  other  half  was  devoted  to  the 
guinea-pigs.  Long  before  Profes 
sor  Gordon  received  the  president's 
letter  Morgan  received  one  from 
Flannery. 

'  'About  them  dago  pigs, ' '  it  said, 
"what  shall  I  do  they  are  great  in 
family  life,  no  race  suicide  for  them, 
there  are  thirty- two  now  shall  I 
sell  them  do  you  take  this  ex- 

[24] 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

press  office  for  a  menagerie,  answer 
quick.'3 

Morgan  reached  for  a  telegraph 
blank  and  wrote : 

"Agent,  Westcote.  Don't  sell 
pigs.'1 

He  then  wrote  Flannery  a  letter 
calling  his  attention  to  the  fact 
that  the  pigs  were  not  the  property 
of  the  company  but  were  merely 
being  held  during  a  settlement  of 
a  dispute  regarding  rates.  He  ad 
vised  Flannery  to  take  the  best 
possible  care  of  them. 

Flannery,  letter  in  hand,  looked 
at  the  pigs  and  sighed.  The  dry- 
goods  box  cage  had  become  too 
small.  He  boarded  up  twenty  feet 

[25] 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

of  the  rear  of  the  express  office  to 
make  a  large  and  airy  home  for 
them,  and  went  about  his  business, 
He  worked  with  feverish  intensity 
when  out  on  his  rounds,  for  the 
pigs  required  attention  and  took 
most  of  his  time.  Some  months 
later,  in  desperation,  he  seized  a 
sheet  of  paper  and  wrote  "160" 
across  it  and  mailed  it  to  Morgan, 
Morgan  returned  it  asking  for  ex 
planation*  Flannery  replied : 

*  There  be  now  one  hundred  sixty 
of  them  dago  pigs,  for  heavens  sake 
let  me  sell  off  some,  do  you  want 
me  to  go  crazy,  what." 

"Sell  no  pigs/'  Morgan  wired. 

Not  long  after  this  the  president 

[26] 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

of  the  express  company  received  a 
letter  from  Professor  Gordon.  It 
was  a  long  and  scholarly  letter,  but 
the  point  was  that  the  guinea-pig 
was  the  Cavia  aparoea  while  the 
common  pig  was  the  genus  Sas  of 
the  family  Suidae.  He  remarked 
that  they  were  prolific  and  multi 
plied  rapidly. 

"They  are  not  pigs,"  said  the 
president,  decidedly,  to  Morgan. 
"The  twenty-five  cent  rate  ap- 

T  » 

plies. 

Morgan  made  the  proper  nota 
tion  on  the  papers  that  had  accu 
mulated  in  File  A  6754,  and  turned 
them  over  to  the  Audit  Depart 
ment.  The  Audit  Department  took 
[27] 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

some  time  to  look  the  matter  up, 
and  after  the  usual  delay  wrote 
Flannery  that  as  he  had  on  hand 
one  hundred  and  sixty  guinea-pigs, 
the  property  of  consignee,  he  should 
deliver  them  and  collect  charges  at 
the  rate  of  twenty-five  cents  each. 

Flannery  spent  a  day  herding  his 
charges  through  a  narrow  opening 
in  their  cage  so  that  he  might  count 
them. 

"Audit  Dept."he  wrote,  when 
he  had  finished  the  count,  "y°u 
are  way  off  there  may  be  was  one 
hundred  and  sixty  dago  pigs  once, 
but  wake  up  don't  be  a  back  num 
ber.  I've  got  even  eight  hundred, 
now  shall  I  collect  for  eight  hun- 

[28] 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

dred  or  what,  how  about  sixty-four 
dollars  I  paid  out  for  cabbages.'3 

It  required  a  great  many  letters 
back  and  forth  before  the  Audit 
Department  was  able  to  understand 
why  the  error  had  been  made  of 
billing  one  hundred  and  sixty  in 
stead  of  eight  hundred,  and  still 
more  time  for  it  to  get  the  meaning 
of  the  "cabbages." 

Flannery  was  crowded  into  a  few 
feet  at  the  extreme  front  of  the 
office.  The  pigs  had  all  the  rest  of 
the  room  and  two  boys  were  em 
ployed  constantly  attending  to 
them.  The  day  after  Flannery  had 
counted  the  guinea-pigs  there  were 
eight  more  added  to  his  drove,  and 

[29] 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

by  the  time  the  Audit  Department 
gave  him  authority  to  collect  for 
eight  hundred  Flannery  had  given 
up  all  attempts  to  attend  to  the 
receipt  or  the  delivery  of  goods. 
He  was  hastily  building  galleries 
around  the  express  office,  tier  above 
tier.  He  had  four  thousand  and 
sixty-four  guinea-pigs  to  care  for. 
More  were  arriving  daily. 

Immediately  following  its  au 
thorization  the  Audit  Department 
sent  another  letter,  but  Flannery 
was  too  busy  to  open  it.  They 
wrote  another  and  then  they  tele 
graphed  : 

"Error  in  guinea-pig  bill.  Col 
lect  for  two  guinea-pigs,  fifty 


PIGS   IS   PICS 

cents.  Deliver  all  to  consignee/5 
Flannery  read  the  telegram  and 
cheered  up.  He  wrote  out  a  bill  as 
rapidly  as  his  pencil  could  travel 
over  paper  and  ran  all  the  way  to 
the  Morehouse  home.  At  the  gate 
he  stopped  suddenly.  The  house 
stared  at  him  with  vacant  eyes. 
The  windows  were  bare  of  curtains 
and  he  could  see  into  the  empty 
rooms.  A  sign  on  the  porch  said, 
"To  Let."  Mr.  Morehouse  had 
moved!  Flannery  ran  all  the  way 
back  to  the  express  office.  Sixty- 
nine  guinea-pigs  had  been  born  dur 
ing  his  absence.  He  ran  out  again 
and  made  feverish  inquiries  in  the 
village.  Mr.  Morehouse  had  not 

[31] 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

only  moved,  but  he  had  left  West- 
cote.  Flannery  returned  to  the 
express  office  and  found  that  two 
hundred  and  six  guinea-pigs  had 
entered  the  world  since  he  left  it. 
He  wrote  a  telegram  to  the  Audit 
Department. 

"Can't  collect  fifty  cents  for  two 
dago  pigs  consignee  has  left  town 
address  unknown  what  shall  I  do? 
Flannery." 

The  telegram  was  handed  to  one 
of  the  clerks  in  the  Audit  Depart 
ment,  and  as  he  read  it  he  laughed. 

"Flannery  must  be  crazy.  He 
ought  to  know  that  the  thing  to 
do  is  to  return  the  consignment 
here,"  said  the  clerk.  He  tele- 

[32] 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

graphed  Flannery  to  send  the  pigs 
to  the  main  office  of  the  company 
at  Franklin. 

When  Flannery  received  the  tele 
gram  he  set  to  work.  The  six  boys 
he  had  engaged  to  help  him  also 
set  to  work.  They  worked  with 
the  haste  of  desperate  men,  making 
cages  out  of  soap  boxes,  cracker 
boxes,  and  all  kinds  of  boxes,  and 
as  fast  as  the  cages  were  completed 
they  filled  them  with  guinea-pigs 
and  expressed  them  to  Franklin. 
Day  after  day  the  cages  of  guinea- 
pigs  flowed  in  a  steady  stream  from 
Westcote  to  Franklin,  and  still 
Flannery  and  his  six  helpers  ripped 
and  nailed  and  packed — relentlessly 

[33] 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

and  feverishly.  At  the  end  of  the 
week  they  had  shipped  two  hund 
red  and  eighty  cases  of  guinea-pigs, 
and  there  were  in  the  express  office 
seven  hundred  and  four  more  pigs 
than  when  they  began  packing 
them. 

Stop  sending  pigs.  Warehouse 
full, ' '  came  a  telegram  to  Flannery. 
He  stopped  packing  only  long  en 
ough  to  wire  back,  "Can't  stop," 
and  kept  on  sending  them.  On 
the  next  train  up  from  Franklin 
came  one  of  the  company's  inspec 
tors.  He  had  instructions  to  stop 
the  stream  of  guinea-pigs  at  all 
hazards.  As  his  train  drew  up  at 
Westcote  station  he  saw  a  cattle- 

[04] 


He  was  winding  up  the  guinea-pig,  tptiotie^ , ; 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

car  standing  on  the  express  com 
pany's  siding.  When  he  reached 
the  express  office  he  saw  the  ex 
press  wagon  backed  up  to  the  door. 
Six  boys  were  carrying  bushel  bas 
kets  full  of  guinea-pigs  from  the 
office  and  dumping  them  into  the 
wagon.  Inside  the  room  Flannery, 
with  his  coat  and  vest  off,  was 
shoveling  guinea-pigs  into  bushel 
baskets  with  a  coal  scoop.  He  was 
winding  up  the  guinea-pig  episode. 
He  looked  up  at  the  inspector 
with  a  snort  of  anger. 

'Wan  wagonload  more  an'  I'll 
be  quit  of  thim,  an'  niver  will  ye 
catch  Flannery  wid  no  more  foreign 
pigs  on  his  hands.  No,  surl  They 

[35] 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

near  was  the  death  o'  me.  Nixt 
toime  Fll  know  that  pigs  of  what- 
iver  nationality  is  domistic  pets — 
an'  go  at  the  lowest  rate/' 

He  began  shoveling  again  rapid 
ly,  speaking  quickly  between 
breaths. 

"Rules  may  be  rules,  but  you 
can't  fool  Mike  Flannery  twice 
wid  the  same  thrick — whin  ut 
comes  to  live  stock,  dang  the  rules. 
So  long  as  Flannery  runs  this  ex- 
priss  office — pigs  is  pets — an*  cows 
is  pets — an'  horses  is  pets — an'  lions 
an'  tigers  an'  Rocky  Mountain 
goats  is  pets — an'  the  rate  on 
thim  is  t winty  -  foive  cints. ' ' 

He  paused  long  enough  to  let 

[36] 


PIGS   IS   PIGS 

one  of  the  boys  put  an  empty  bas 
ket  in  the  place  of  the  one  he  had 
just  filled.  There  were  only  a  few 
guinea-pigs  left.  As  he  noted  their 
limited  number  his  natural  habit 
of  looking  on  the  bright  side  re 
turned. 

'  Well,  annyhow, ' '  he  said  cheer 
fully,  '  'tis  not  so  bad  as  ut  might 
be.  What  if  thim  dago  pigs  had 
been  elephants!' 


THE  END 


[37] 


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